Fair's Fair
by Tarafina
Summary: "That was the longest moment of my life when she wasn't moving and I won't let it happen again." – AU moment in Sue's Shuffle, Rachel goes for the ball instead of Tina. PxR


**Title**: Fair's Fair  
**Category**: Glee  
**Genre**: Romance/Drama/Humor  
**Ship**: Puck/Rachel  
**Rating**: Teen  
**Warning(s)**: Coarse Language  
**Spoiler(s)**: Sue Shuffle  
**Prompt**: AU in which Rachel gets the ball instead of Tina. When she gets tackled she actually gets injured (but not too seriously, like a broken arm or shoulder) When she is laying in the end zone looking up at the field doctor Puck realises that he can't live without her. – puckrachel drabble meme  
**Word Count**: 5,306  
**Summary**: "That was the longest moment of my life when she wasn't moving and I won't let it happen again." – AU moment in Sue's Shuffle, Rachel goes for the ball instead of Tina.

**_Fair's Fair_**  
-1/1-

It had all been fairly easy, she thought. The boys did most of the work and the girls were there for show. While this would usually seem very demeaning, Rachel couldn't help but think that in this area, she was rather useless. Aside from knowing who her teammates were, she had no idea how football worked in general. There was an end zone, a ball made out of pig skin (the vegan in her _revolted _at the very _idea!_), and there were handsome boys running around in shoulder pads and flimsy jerseys. She knew Finn threw the ball and various others caught it. She remembered that Noah was one of those people; she could, in fact, remember in detail what his end zone dance looked like. As per usual, it was both arrogant and somewhat vulgar. Still, for all intents and purposes, she hoped to see it at least once tonight. Only because it meant they had scored, of course. Not because an excited and proud Noah Puckerman made her at all happy… And if his asking her earlier if she was ready, she had been so happy she had exclaimed with a particular swear word – he would later tell her _ass _hardly constituted a _curse word_ – then it was only because of the team effort and the joyful experience of being a part of something special. There was absolutely no reason to suspect the attention she paid to the number 20 jersey was out of concern, except for that of a fellow team mate and gleek. It had nothing to do with the fact that being in the game made the violence all the more noticeable and that she might be slightly worried about him. Although if she did, and that was a very large _if_, then it could be considered completely natural as they had bonded and become somewhat friends. After all, he did _kind of _like her.

She hadn't _planned _to play. She wasn't like Tina, who had spoken up about being tired of just laying down all the time. Admittedly, however, the score was very much _not _in their favor. And so when she saw that opportunity, so very close, she had to go for it. She was, after all, a champion. Maybe her arena of winning had more to do with dancing and singing, but it was not in her nature to lie down and take a loss. She told herself that Finn would be proud of her for doing something. That if she won, he would no doubt raise her up on his shoulders and praise her for saving his team. But when she went for it, all she could think was that Noah would be so happy that his team had won; that tiny little Rachel had lived up to her word of 'kicking their asses.'

She heard Coach Beiste – "Pick it up! Get the ball!" – and it was so close she could already feel it in her hands. She shot up to her feet and ran for it, even as her heart beat loud and rapid in her ears. She plucked it from the grass and kept going. She could see the other players, could see their bulky masses running at her. With a yelp, she ran faster. This wasn't like glee or the many dance competitions she had partaken in; these people didn't know her and they only wanted the ball in her hands. She wrinkled her nose; she was _touching _pig skin! She would have to scrub and scrub to get it off her fingers and as soon as possible, she was going to start a petition to ban animal related _everything _in the school! There _had _to be something more sanitary and less inhumane to play with…

The cheers of the crowd were loud (briefly, she thought: _They like me! They _really_ like me!_), but not enough to cover her panting breaths or the stomping footsteps of the rival team behind her. She just knew this wasn't going to end well. She wondered just how bruised she might be and whether it would get in the way of her dancing lesson on Saturday when suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around her waist. _Oh! _Eyes wide, she felt her body lurch forward and her feet slip from beneath her. And then she the ground was coming up fast and she closed her eyes tight. With a squeak, she couldn't help but think that Noah was never going to let her live this down. After that, it was all dark.

…

A whistle rang out and Puck stared. He'd been excited at first, grinning so wide his face hurt. Rachel _freakin' _Berry was running the ball into the end zone. Holy motherfucking shit! It was all happening so fast and he really thought she was gonna make it. Her long dancer's legs (how she was so small and her legs went on for miles totally blew his mind!) were getting her closer and closer, but then some douche from the other team tackled her. First, he wanted to rip that dude a new one. Okay, sure, she was on the football team and she had to expect something like this if she was gonna play, but _come on_… She was a fucking _girl! _A really tiny, hurt—Shit. She wasn't moving. She wasn't… His blood ran cold. He ran across the field, ripping his helmet from his head and tossing it away as he went. The paramedics on standby were motioned over and they were running for her too, but Puck got their first. He hit his knees and touched her back, where the bright number **1 **stared up at him.

"Rach?"

She didn't move. Or speak. The not speaking thing was what worried him. 'Coz even a hurt Rachel would be complaining about how fucking violent this game was or how some 'brute' had the 'audacity' to take her down. His heart hammered in his chest, so hard he thought the others could hear it. He glanced around, at the faces all staring back, worried and confused. Shit just got seriously real and he didn't like it.

Carefully, the field doctor rolled her over.

Her eyes were closed and Puck felt a chill roll down his back. "Berry?" _Nothing_. "C'mon, this shit ain't funny…" He balled the shoulder of her jersey in his hand so hard it tore. Breathing hard, he looked up at the man kneeling on her other side. "_Do something!_" he told the doctor. "She never shuts the fuck up. There's something _wrong_, she—"

He pulled a light out and brought it in front of Rachel's face, shining it in her eyes.

Puck started getting nervous. Maybe it was seconds or minutes, but she wasn't responding and what the fuck was a goddamn light supposed to do? Why weren't they checking her pulse or if she was breathing or not? That dude hit her pretty hard, she might've— Too many scenarios started playing out in his head. He really hated just then that his mom was a nurse. What the fuck was he gonna do if she died? This wasn't just about glee or whether they won this stupid game. This was about Rachel. She was… She was all quiet and pale and that stupid black make-up on her cheeks didn't make her look badass anymore, it was just wrong. It was all fucking _wrong_. She was doing this 'coz they wanted to win so badly; 'coz football mattered to them. 'Coz she owed him for helping her with that stupid duet so she could make Finn jealous. And yeah, sure, he did it, but he didn't give a shit about helping her get Hudson back. He did it 'coz singing with her was better than any high he'd ever known. 'Coz maybe she didn't know yet that he really liked her, but he did. In fact, all this shit made him realize that it wasn't just _like_, it was 'can't live without her diva bullshit and buckets of crazy.' It was 'can't live without her' _period_.

"The fuck kind of doctor _are _you?" he snarled. "Don't we have smelling salts or some shit? Somebody call somebody who knows what the fuck they're doing. Jesus Christ, I—"

"Noah?" her tiny voice breathed out.

Holy shit. All the anger drained out of him. "Rach?" He looked back at her and she was blinking up at him, confused. Her hand lifted to touch her head and she wiggled around, wincing. "Fuck, Rachel, don't move."

"Ow!" she cried, biting her lip. "My-My arm!" Panicked, she stared up at him. "Noah! What happened to my arm? It—"

"Just stay still," he told her, looking back at the doctor. "You heard her! Fix her goddamn arm!"

"It's _broken?_" she wailed. "_Oh my Babs!_ How am I going to dance at half-time?"

"Fuck half-time," he muttered. "'m just glad you're _breathing!_"

"Of _course_, I'm breathing. It's my _arm _that hurts! That has absolutely nothing to do with my respiratory system, Noah." She pinned him with a disapproving frown. "You should _really _attend more classes."

He laughed, even though it came out choked and thick. And those so weren't fucking tears in his eyes, sweat just got in there and it fucking _stung _all right? "Shut up, Berry…"

"Of all the insensitive things to say while I'm lying here in a field after being tackled by the brutish opposition, trying my very best to win a game for you, you moronic—"

"For _me?_" he interrupted and yeah he was smirking now.

"Well, I-I didn't mean _just _you. I—And—You—Just—There were other reasons than—Never you mind! I'm clearly delirious from the ridiculously painful and unnecessary violent act perpetrated by—"

"She always like this?" the doctor asked, concerned.

"Yeah." Puck grinned. "Yeah, she's totally bat-shit."

"Noah Puckerman!" she yelled.

The field doctor waved for a little help. "Can you stand up?" he asked.

"My legs are in perfect working order, thank you very much," she snapped.

"Which arm is it?"

She motioned and then flinched when he reached for it. Worriedly, she looked up at Puck. "Noah?"

"It's all right," he reassured. "He's gotta move you though. You can't stay sprawled on the field or you're gonna get even more hurt."

"I suppose that's logical…" she murmured. But when the doctor reached for her again, she turned her head. "No, I… Noah, will you _please_ help me up?"

"Yeah, Berry, I got you." He rolled to his knees behind her head and carefully slid his hands beneath her armpits. "Push with your feet, all right?"

She nodded, her too-big helmet bobbing with her. It only took a few seconds and she cried out at the jarring of her arm, but he got her up. "You okay?"

Shoving her helmet off, she replied, "I'm seriously reconsidering any future I might have in football."

He laughed. Leaning in, he kissed the top of her messy head and breathed a sigh of relief. "'s probably a good idea."

"Miss? We really need to take a look at your arm," the doctor told her.

She backed up, right into Puck's chest. "I assure you, it's perfectly fine… I was merely suffering a panic attack and—"

"Rachel?" Puck interrupted, squeezing her shoulder. "You're gonna let 'em take a look at it." His voice was deadly calm and serious.

She glanced up at him, her expression promising she was going to argue with him. But she took one look at his face and frowned. "Fine… But if they say anything about me not participating in the half-time show, everyone here will feel my wrath!" With a stomp of her foot, she started walking away, the field doctors chasing after her.

"Crazy midget," Puck muttered, watching after her affectionately. He moved to follow, but then saw the rest of the team staring at him funny before they all started back toward Coach Beiste and Mr. Shuester.

Finn raised a brow.

"What?" he asked, glaring.

"Nothing… Just…" He looked from him to Rachel, who was chatting a mile a minute and probably trying to tell the doctors what to do, and then back. "Whatever. We'll talk about it later. Just… I've got a plan, but I'm gonna need your help."

Crossing his arms over his chest, he nodded. "'m listening."

"We're losing… We need Rachel… We can't play without her."

"If she's hurt, she's not going in." His jaw stiffened. "And if you ask me to convince her, 'm gonna hit you."

Finn frowned. "I'm not asking that. Just… If she's not hurt, she might be scared to get on the field and—"

"Dude, do you even _know _Berry?" He cocked a brow. "She's gonna drag her ass onto the field, sling or not. And I'm gonna drag her right back off."

"Puck," he sighed.

"No." He glared at him. "Look, I know I said that me and Berry were over and that I wouldn't do anything with her or-or whatever the fuck we agreed to before, but I lied…" Licking his lips, he looked off the field to see the doctor carefully rotating Rachel's shoulder, testing her limits. "'m not giving her up… and I'm not sending her out there so she can get even more hurt. We were stupid to think we could bring the girls on the field and they'd be okay. She almost…" His jaw ticked. "That was the longest moment of my life when she wasn't moving and I won't let it happen again."

Finn stared at him, eyes finally falling to the field. "I'm sorry. I… I don't want Rachel hurt anymore than you do. But if she can play…" He looked up at him hopefully. "We _need_ her."

Puck turned, getting up in Hudson's face. "Unless that doctor says she's good to go, she's not setting foot anywhere near that ball… I don't care if it costs us the game."

"But if she gets the green light, you'll let her play?"

He frowned, looking away.

Nodding, Finn ran off the field and approached Rachel and the doctors. A few minutes later, after a lot of nodding and stomping of Rachel's foot, Finn came back grinning. "She should be okay… She promises she'll lay down this time and not do anything to attract attention and the doctor said she'll need to rest it, a _lot_. She'll probably need some ice and she should maybe not go to sleep for awhile, 'coz they're kinda worried about a concussion, but—"

Puck rolled his eyes. "Dude, you're not exactly getting me excited for this."

"Okay, but she's _allowed _to play… We've only got a few minutes until half-time, all right? You can block her and only her if that's what you want, but we _need _her on the field."

"_Why? _What d'you think's gonna happen that's gonna change anything? We've got an injured player and I'm not letting anybody near her, so I can't block for you."

He nodded. "I know. Just…" He frowned, darting a look up at the stands and then over to the side. "Sam?" He waved him over.

Puck's brow furrowed as the blonde back-up QB ran over.

"I need you to play quarterback for the rest of the half," he ordered, clapping Evans' shoulder.

Sam's eyes darted away, confused. "Okay."

"Puck…" He turned back to him. "When the half ends, you gotta go convince Karofsky and the rest of the guys to do the half-time show with us."

He stared up at him with wide eyes. "How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

Finn threw his hands up, shaking his head. "Figure it out." He stared at him searchingly before lifting a fist. "You're my wingman, right?"

"Even after the whole Rachel thing?" he wondered a little awkwardly.

Finn just grinned and shook his fist again.

Puck smiled, bumping it.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked, brows lifted.

"Can't have a half-time show without cheerleaders, right?" Finn asked, before turning and racing off.

Puck turned back to see Rachel was still arguing with the doctors. Nodding at Sam, he took off for them, jogging off the field. "She good?" he asked, interrupting Rachel's speech about the lacking safety gear.

"She's banged up pretty good… She'll need to ice her shoulder. She shouldn't put any weight on it. No stress or strain. But as long as she doesn't take another hit like that and she stays out of the way, she should be okay…" The doctor stared down at her. "I know you're just out there to fill out the team and that was a nice thing you did, trying to score a touchdown, but you're a small girl—"

"_Petite_," she snapped. "I'm petite! And I'll have you know—"

The doctor rolled his eyes, looking at Puck with an expression that clearly said 'Please take this girl as far away from me as you possibly can.' He knew that face well. With a chuckle, Puck grabbed Rachel's good hand and helped her up off the bench. "C'mon, _badass_, we've only got a few minutes left and I'm gonna explain to you how it's gonna work."

"Noah, I've been playing the whole first half, I think I have an idea how it works. I—"

"You're gonna get your ass on the ground when the ball gets snapped and you're not gonna move until the half ends," he said, turning toward her seriously. "I don't care if the ball is within reaching distance. You don't _touch _it. Don't even fucking _look _at it, all right?"

"You're mad." She frowned. "_Why _are you mad? I was doing what Coach Beiste said to. I grabbed the ball and I headed toward that zone at the end."

He blew out a heavy breath and shook his head. "You got yourself _hurt_, Rachel!"

"There is always a large chance that taking a risk might hurt, Noah. But if it meant scoring then that was a risk I was willing to take! I—"

"You scared the shit out of me!" he exploded. "You weren't even _moving! _You were just laying there all-all _quiet! _It was creepy and weird and fucking _scary!_"

She blinked up at him, her mouth agape.

"So just… Stay the hell down and wait for the clock to run out, all right?" Not waiting for an answer, he put her helmet on her head. Grabbing the faceguard, he jerked it up so they were eye to eye. "You get up and I will throw you over my shoulder and leave the field, you got me?"

"But the game—"

"Doesn't fucking matter." He frowned. "Not as much as you." With a sigh, he turned around and raced back onto the field to finish out the half.

Subdued, Rachel followed after him. Sam took up Finn's position and everybody readied for the snap. And when the game was on, Puck kept close to Rachel, blocking anybody who even came close and hammering them down and out of the way. They didn't score one single point, but Rachel stayed on the ground and let him help her up each time. When the half ended and they had to run off and get their make-up on, she looked up at him with something in her eyes, something he couldn't figure out. He didn't have time to ask though.

Making his way to the locker room, he tracked down the guys and found them emptying out their lockers. He cocked a brow, disappointed.

"Lookin' good out there, _Puck_," Karofsky sneered, nodding at him.

"Y'know what? I don't wanna hear it, Karofsky." He looked around at them. "I don't wanna hear it from any of you. You're all a bunch of _cowards!_ Coward _losers!_"

"Yeah, you're the only loser losing this game. You and your loser girlfriend. Maybe they knocked some 'o her _crazy _out!"

He sneered, fists tightening at his sides. "Go to hell, Azimio. 'Least Rachel was strong enough to get out there and try. She didn't hide in the stands like a little pussy. She got hit, she went down, and she got up. She went right back out there!"

"Yeah and you were so pussy whipped, you never left her side," he sneered. "What kinda footballer _are _you?"

"A better one than you," he snapped. Sighing heavily, he shook his head. "You know what? This is it! This is the moment of our lives. This is the one where he can actually look back and tell our _children _about!" He lifted his hand, cutting it through the air. "This is our moment to actually _win _something! And you guys are sitting in the damn _stands!_" He walked forward, looking from face to face. "I mean you're so afraid to be called _geeks _or _losers _or _gay _that you settle for being _nothing_." He walked back, glaring down at Azimio. "Come on, we still have a whole half to play. And we can win this guys, I _know _it!"

"What's the point man?" Azimio stood up, shaking his head. "Beiste isn't gonna let us play!"

"She will if you come out and perform at the half-time show," he reminded, staring him down.

Azimio looked away, brows furrowed. His eyes fell and he sighed before looking back at Puck. "I'm in."

A few others nodded.

"Me too."

Puck nodded, feeling victory.

"No way!" Karofsky argued, looking between them.

"Come on, man. I really wanna win this game!" Azimio added, "It means so much to my dad, man."

Karofsky shook his head, cutting his arms through the air before he turned to look back at them. "Forget it, okay? Glee club _sucks!_"

"Fine, Karofsky's out, whatever." Puck threw a hand up dismissively. "But the rest of you need to get in your zombie make-up and hit the field." Even as the others hollered and cheered, filing out, Puck looked back at Karofsky and raised a brow. _Last chance?_ But he shrugged, shook his head, and Puck gave up. He followed the others and got ready for their show. And regardless of whether they won or lost, that show blew the fucking top off everything. They danced their asses off and they sang their mash-up and the bleachers went nuts for them. Rachel's movements were a little more jerky because of her bad-shoulder, but it only added to the whole effect. And when it finally ended, he went out on the field with his team, with Rachel safely tucked on the side with the other girls, an icepack on her shoulder and a red and white pom-pom in hand. And when they won, he pointed at her and screamed himself hoarse, something she would probably tell him to never do again 'coz it was bad for his vocal chords or some shit, but what-the fuck-ever, they just fucking _won!_

It was chaos then, footballers and gleeks and cheering fans and family members all rushing the field. He still had his zombie make-up on and it itched like hell, but nothing could wipe away the grin he had on. The field was too crowded to find her and he was getting pats on the shoulder and congratulations from all ends, so he gave up and packed it in. It wasn't until after he'd showered and was back in his regular clothes that he finally found her. She was standing by his truck, otherwise deserted in the parking lot, still wearing the bright red dress of her costume, but her face scrubbed free of make-up. He grinned, jogging toward the truck and pausing to toss his duffel in the back before circling to stand in front of her.

"Thought Mercedes or Kurt would'a driven you home already," he said in greeting.

She was cradling her arm against her chest, but she shrugged. "They offered."

He cocked a brow. "And you thought waiting around here for me was a better choice?" He smirked. "Knew you still wanted the Puckerone, Berry."

She rolled her eyes, sighing. "You can be very insufferable, Noah."

"'s part of my charm."

She chuckled, but pursed her lips to stop herself. Shaking her head, she stared at the ground a moment before finally looking up at him. "You were worried about me…" Her eyes narrowed. "When I was _brutally_ attacked by that meathead of an opponent!"

He laughed under his breath. "That's kinda his job, B."

"Regardless," she sniffed. "You were worried about my well-being. So much so that you were willing to sacrifice your championship game for me…" She stared up at him searchingly. "Finn told me you weren't going to let me back on the field, no matter how much I told you I was okay… He said you were willing to resort to bodily harm on his person."

He sighed, looking away. "So what? If you were hurt you shouldn't play. That's just like… _smart_ or some shit."

"Noah…" She bit her lip, eyes downcast. "How scared were you?"

He frowned at her.

"You said I scared the… _excrement _out of you."

He rolled his eyes. "_Shit_, Berry. And it's just a saying, I didn't actually—"

She held up a hand to silence him. "I'm well aware."

"Whatever…" He shifted his feet. "Look… 'm not good with words, all right? But you being out there, all quiet and not moving and shit…?" He swallowed tightly. "I know you still like Hudson and I know we were only doing that duet so you could make him jealous, but…" He clenched his teeth and looked away. "Maybe I want more… Maybe I think I could be better for you… And I was thinking maybe you wanted me too…" He half smiled. "Y'know, since you almost got yourself killed tryin' to get me a touchdown n' everything."

"That's a lot of maybes, Noah…" She smiled up at him slowly. "But maybe my near-death experience enlightened me to a few latent feelings that I had been avoiding for a lot longer than I should have…"

He grinned. "So you _do _want me?"

Huffing, she reached over to slap his arm but the movement of her shoulder made her wince and drop her hand.

Worried, his smirk faded and concern flooded his face. "Hey…" Reaching for her, he held her upper arms carefully. "You sure you're all right? 'Coz my mom's a nurse at Lima Gen; I can take you over there and get her to check you out…" He half-smirked. "The other nurse's know me, so we can probably skip the waiting room…"

"And just how _well _do they know you?" she wondered, lips pursing.

He rolled his eyes. "You know I got a past, Berry; 'm not gonna pretend I don't…" He licked his lips, blowing out a sigh. "But I want you and 'm not gonna let anybody else get in the way of that…"

She stared up at him curiously. "You're willing to be in a monogamous relationship with me, Noah? Even if it means taking things slow?"

"Long as you stay the hell off the football field, I'll take it as slow as you want."

She laughed slightly but then shook her head. "For you information, I feel that tackle was uncalled for… And with a little training, I'm absolutely sure that I could become a very good, strong player…" She wrinkled her nose. "Perhaps one that doesn't get tackled very often." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Is there a position like that open on your team?"

He rolled his eyes, snorting. "You're not funny."

She smiled brightly. "On the contrary, I find myself to be very witty."

"Uh-huh…" He tugged her close, rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

"In fact, I've been told many times that I show a strong sense of humor and—"

He cut her off with his mouth, slanting it over her fast-moving lips and effectively shutting her up. Her speech ran off into a long moan and she immediately met his kiss with just as much intensity. She slid a hand up and around his neck and snaked her fingers through his 'hawk, tugging lightly as his tongue reached for hers and her teeth bit at him. He smirked; he fucking _missed _that. Sliding an arm around her waist, he squeezed and lifted her up off the ground a few inches so his neck wasn't craned down so much. She let out a squeak, but one of her long legs snapped around his waist to give herself leverage. Backing up her against the front end of his truck, he slid a hand around her thigh and ground himself into her. Her heel dug into his back but she wasn't pushing him away, instead kissing him harder. Even with the fresh win hardly an hour old, he thought kissing her, getting her back, might actually be the best part of the whole night.

She went to raise her other arm to wrap around him but hissed, dragging her mouth back from his. "I'm sorry," she said, ducking her head in pain. "It's possible I didn't leave the ice on long enough. Doctor Peters said it might hurt to lift it very high and you are quite tall… I may have also moved it around a _little_ too much during the half-time show, but I'm sure that with a little rest, it'll be good as new…" Her brows furrowed with concern. "You don't think it'll still be a problem tomorrow, do you? Because I have a dance lesson that I absolutely cannot miss for anything and I—"

Shaking his head as she rambled, he reached for the shoulder of her dress and tugged it down and out of the way. And then he leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to her bruised and pained shoulder. She stopped talking, a hitch to her breath, and she watched him with a soft look on her face. "Oh…" she murmured.

He half-smiled, rubbing his thumb in small circles along her bare shoulder. "Better?"

"It… I… That is…" She stared up at him with wide eyes. "Yes…" She nodded slowly. "Yes, it definitely feels better."

He grinned. Stepping back a little, he helped her to stand up and then walked her to the passenger door. "C'mon, I should probably get you home before the daddies Berry send out a search party."

"Oh, I warned them I might be late. I…" She flushed. "I told them there was a small get together since we won." She shook her head. "I didn't expect to be invited to the victory party, of course, but I had thought that—that maybe you and I could spend some time together…" She bit her lip. "If you wanted to."

Gripping her hips, he lifted her up into the seat and nodded. "Yeah…" He winked. "Good time as any to spend some more time kissing you better."

She stared up at him from beneath long lashes. "I'd like that."

Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to her forehead before stepping back and shoving his hands in his pockets. He was pretty sure that was a real pussy move and he felt totally out of his element. But when he closed the door and circled the truck, he was damn proud of the dazed look she had on her face. Climbing in the driver's side, he slammed his door and gunned the engine. When she reached out to take his hand, he did a little victory dance in his head. _Hells yeah_. Forget best part of the night; she was the best thing to happen to him his whole damn _life_. And he was gonna do whatever it took to be the best thing to happen to _her_. Fair's fair after all.

[**End.**]


End file.
